if you do not care for your people and kingdom anymore, consider Crypt. That young man loves you very much, and I’d have to be blind not to see you love him back.”
I looked at the bedspread, playing with a tassel on the quilt. I couldn’t look at her. “He’s been distant lately. And I don’t care. Just tell the doctors to send something to knock me out again. If they don’t, I’ll start screaming.” I felt worn, and my belly roiled dangerously.
“No.”
I looked up at her, surprised. I should’ve felt something. Anger that she’d defied me, maybe. Or pain that she wouldn’t help me. Despair, even. But I was just cold. I didn’t feel anything. I was all cried out, and I didn’t have the strength to carry out my threats.
She looked at me as she stood. “I’m ashamed of you. Just giving up like that, Your Majesty. I always said you were a fighter so I did. But now? I wonder if I wasn’t mistaken.”
I looked at her dully. “I don’t care. I’m tired of this war. I’m tired of living. I’m tired of who I am. Maybe I’d rather just let Cyril win and come kill me. Then I’d be out of this prison you call life.” My words had no conviction, no force. They fell on my ears, flavorless, devoid of any emotion. Devoid of everything, in fact.
Her lips tightened into a hard line. “You should eat your dinner.”
I waved a weak hand at it. “I’m not hungry. Take it away.”
“No! You eat it.” She gave me an insistent look.
I pulled myself into a sitting position. “You can’t make me, and if you try, I’ll have you arrested. Leave me alone. I want to die, and if you won’t have the doctors give me something to keep me unconscious until I do, I’ll die of starvation.”
She looked at me, her eyes widening. “They’d put you into the hospital.”
“Let them. I don’t care. If they want to extend my miserable life, fine. Just do me a favor.” Finally, some feeling came into my voice. My words seemed to quiver with raw pain. “Make sure that I’m not awake to live through it. I don’t want to deal with it.”
She looked deep into my eyes, and her shoulders sagged. She’d seen the true extent of my desolation. Without a word, she turned and left the room.
I lay back down on my bed, pulling the covers over my head. I was numb now. I stared into the darkness of the room, stomach still churning, and suddenly, tears came again. I had thought I was all cried out from crying for nearly a whole day, but hot tears poured over my cheeks. I closed my swollen lids, feeling nothing but the dull ache of loss. After this night of tears, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to cry again.
***
I woke the next morning to find that someone was holding my hand. My eyes fluttered open in startled bewilderment. Then I saw Crypt.
“What…” But I couldn’t manage more.
My voice cracked from the lack of liquids and from my sobbing last night. I think I cried myself to sleep.
He patted my hand gently. “I know I wasn’t supposed to be back. But they called me back because you were doing so poorly. They said you would die if I didn’t. But I don’t get it, because I came back, and you aren’t dying.” His eyes met my swollen ones.
He brushed away the tears coming to my eyes over seeing him. So much for not crying ever again.
Soon I was shaking with the force of the sobs. He sat down on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. I buried my face in his shirt. It seemed safer somehow. Almost as though I was hidden. His arms enveloped me, providing an extra level of security.
When I was able to control my tears and breathing enough to speak, I looked up at him. “Why won’t they just let me die? I want to die.” My hand curled into balls against his chest, and I shivered.
He looked into my blue eyes. “You don’t want to die. Don’t say that.”
“I do want to die.” I stubbornly refused to give ground on it.
I continued to look at his eyes.
“Well, it doesn’t matter if you want to die.
I looked at the bedspread, playing with a tassel on the quilt. I couldn’t look at her. “He’s been distant lately. And I don’t care. Just tell the doctors to send something to knock me out again. If they don’t, I’ll start screaming.” I felt worn, and my belly roiled dangerously.
“No.”
I looked up at her, surprised. I should’ve felt something. Anger that she’d defied me, maybe. Or pain that she wouldn’t help me. Despair, even. But I was just cold. I didn’t feel anything. I was all cried out, and I didn’t have the strength to carry out my threats.
She looked at me as she stood. “I’m ashamed of you. Just giving up like that, Your Majesty. I always said you were a fighter so I did. But now? I wonder if I wasn’t mistaken.”
I looked at her dully. “I don’t care. I’m tired of this war. I’m tired of living. I’m tired of who I am. Maybe I’d rather just let Cyril win and come kill me. Then I’d be out of this prison you call life.” My words had no conviction, no force. They fell on my ears, flavorless, devoid of any emotion. Devoid of everything, in fact.
Her lips tightened into a hard line. “You should eat your dinner.”
I waved a weak hand at it. “I’m not hungry. Take it away.”
“No! You eat it.” She gave me an insistent look.
I pulled myself into a sitting position. “You can’t make me, and if you try, I’ll have you arrested. Leave me alone. I want to die, and if you won’t have the doctors give me something to keep me unconscious until I do, I’ll die of starvation.”
She looked at me, her eyes widening. “They’d put you into the hospital.”
“Let them. I don’t care. If they want to extend my miserable life, fine. Just do me a favor.” Finally, some feeling came into my voice. My words seemed to quiver with raw pain. “Make sure that I’m not awake to live through it. I don’t want to deal with it.”
She looked deep into my eyes, and her shoulders sagged. She’d seen the true extent of my desolation. Without a word, she turned and left the room.
I lay back down on my bed, pulling the covers over my head. I was numb now. I stared into the darkness of the room, stomach still churning, and suddenly, tears came again. I had thought I was all cried out from crying for nearly a whole day, but hot tears poured over my cheeks. I closed my swollen lids, feeling nothing but the dull ache of loss. After this night of tears, I was sure I wouldn’t be able to cry again.
***
I woke the next morning to find that someone was holding my hand. My eyes fluttered open in startled bewilderment. Then I saw Crypt.
“What…” But I couldn’t manage more.
My voice cracked from the lack of liquids and from my sobbing last night. I think I cried myself to sleep.
He patted my hand gently. “I know I wasn’t supposed to be back. But they called me back because you were doing so poorly. They said you would die if I didn’t. But I don’t get it, because I came back, and you aren’t dying.” His eyes met my swollen ones.
He brushed away the tears coming to my eyes over seeing him. So much for not crying ever again.
Soon I was shaking with the force of the sobs. He sat down on the bed and pulled me onto his lap. I buried my face in his shirt. It seemed safer somehow. Almost as though I was hidden. His arms enveloped me, providing an extra level of security.
When I was able to control my tears and breathing enough to speak, I looked up at him. “Why won’t they just let me die? I want to die.” My hand curled into balls against his chest, and I shivered.
He looked into my blue eyes. “You don’t want to die. Don’t say that.”
“I do want to die.” I stubbornly refused to give ground on it.
I continued to look at his eyes.
“Well, it doesn’t matter if you want to die.
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